Nicotine, Scotch, and Pepper Potts
by TheWorldBelongsToME
Summary: A series of phone calls between two people. Tony Stark One-Shots.
1. Nicotine, Scotch, and Pepper Potts

**Nicotine, Scotch, and Pepper Potts**

He answered his phone.

"Yello?"

"Tony." It was Pepper, naturally.

"Yes, indeedy," Tony raised his glass to the room as if in a toast, though there was no one else there. The ice clanked, sloshing around his freshly poured drink.

Pepper's panting breaths seethed through the phone.

"Tony," her voice clipped.

Tony took a sloppy sip at his drink, bunching his nose together and glancing at the phone before the pictures flashing across his HD screen caught his attention. A devilish smile smothered his face and found himself yelping a laugh.

"Oo! I look sexy, don't I?" he said, as he watched the latest news reel. He was in, of course.

"What?" said Pepper.

"Ah, nothing, just admiring a spec-_tac_-u-lar view," he said. He wafted a hand nonchalantly, but it was the hand with the drink; the ice sloshed again, and in a panic, Tony lurched forward placing the hand with the phone in it over the ice to keep the drink from spilling. He could hear a birdy voice screeching through the line, and for a moment, he smirked at himself.

He brought the phone to his chest and wiped the moisture off on his shirt. When he brought the phone back to his ear, he heard immediately:

"Tony, where the hell are you?"

With gulp at his drink, he placed it down on the clear coffee table in front of him, using a stack of the latest SCIENCE Digests as an impromptu coaster. The side of his eyes cringed as he focused, focused, on a blank space of the wall beneath the television.

Was he supposed to be somewhere?

"Why?" he said with a smirk in his voice, "Do you want to know what I'm wearing? No one's around to hear, you know."

"Let me guess," Pepper said dryly, "You're sipping a scotch, on your couch, watching T.V."

Tony snorted dismissively, grabbing the remote instinctively and turning the television off. He smiled at himself in some small victory.

"Two words," he said, lifting two fingers in the air, "T-shirt and boxers. Well, that's three words, but I'm not counting prepositions. Oh, and the boxers have hearts on them."

"Tony."

He coughed and feigned a serious frown. With a curt nod of the head, he said gruffly, "Pepper."

"You forgot."

"No, I didn't," he spat out, shaking his head vigorously.

"Yes, you did."

"Nuh-uh."

"Then where am I?" said Pepper.

Tony toyed at the stubble on his chin with his fingertips, narrowing his eyes in thought.

"Why?" he said with a mischievous grin, "Do you want to tell me what _you're _wearing? I don't mind if anyone hears."

"You're twenty minutes late," Pepper sighed.

"I can go a lot longer than that!"

"_Tony_!"

He cringed and pulled the phone away from his ear; before she could say anything else, he brought the phone back toward his face and burst his mouth open.

"Erm- the hairdresser's, the mall, the- uh, grocery store, the tailor- do you have a tailor? Does anyone have a tailor nowadays? Uh, a bar? A meeting? A highbrow executive meeting? A highbrow executive meeting _with _a bar! Oo! I love those kinds of meetings."

"Tony-" her voice was a low hiss now, "I'm not waiting for you. You'll have to reschedule. Call my secretary."

"_Wait_!" Tony bellowed, and there was a long silence, "When did you get a secretary?"

He could hear her sigh, and he could not help but snigger.

"Is she hot?" he persisted.

"Good-bye, Tony."

_Click_. And she was gone.

Tony rested the phone on his chin and peered at that same spot on the wall just below the television. He stared, he stared. Nothing came to mind. With that, he jerked his shoulders in a shrug and stretched a hand out toward a pack of cigarettes hidden underneath a newspaper.

He put a cigarette in his mouth, grabbed a lighter, and took in a long breath as he snatched his drink from off the coffee table.

"Well," he drawled, leaning back on his couch and stretching both his arms around the top of the couch, "shit."


	2. Poltergeist

**Poltergeist**

Tony Stark opened his eyes. He stared for a while—a minute, an hour, he could hardly distinguish the difference anymore. The ceiling was wrought with complexity, and he imagined he saw all manners of faces and forms in the uneven strokes of the paint.

A sudden rustle disrupted his reverie. Snapping his head around, he jolted up in an instant and looked to the right side of the bed. Vacant.

Cursing under his breath, he scooted over to the right side and felt the cool smooth of a bed not yet broken in—

_Poof!_

A black ball of fur swallowed his face.

With an exaggerated sigh, Tony's hand grappled the fur and catapulted it to the far end of the bed.

_Hsss!_

The cat hissed with a fury, walked in a circle, kneaded the comforter for good measure, and then settled in a nice good cubbyhole just where the blankets dipped snugly against Tony's feet. Tony rolled his eyes and nudged at the cat with his heel, but the cat stayed where it was.

"Damn you, Mr. Meow."

He closed his eyes. He did not fall asleep. Hours passed, dawn had come, and Mr. Meow decided that he should be fed. He expressed this resolve by jumping off the bed, lurking over to Tony's side, shimmying up the comforter and once again—

_Poof!_

Another damnable black ball of fluff to the face.

At a loss, Tony hurtled himself out of bed, throwing the cat to the corner. It let out a whining yowl as it scurried out of the room, its feet pattering across the tiles in the hallway all the way down to the kitchen.

Tony snarled and immediately groped his bedside table. He picked up his phone, and pressed speed dial _1_.

"H…hello?" croaked a voice full of sleep.

"Rise and shine!" Tony smiled, walking barefoot across the hall, following the pitter-pats of the cat down to the kitchen.

"Tony," yawned Pepper, "It's not even 5:30."

"That's right!" Tony sang out excitedly, "Which means that it's time for Mr. Meow to eat his anchovies."

"You feed him anchovies?"

"What the hell else am I supposed to feed him?" Tony reached down into his garbage disposal and pulled out an old pizza box, "This ain't no charity, he's getting scraps."

He opened the box and picked at the crusted anchovies on the side of the box. Curiously, he brought it up for a quick sniff and immediately regretted it, throwing the old fish back into the box. He looked around for a blotch of black fluff whirring by but saw nothing.

"Meow Meow!" he called out with a frown, turning around, "Mister—Christ!"

The cat was looming on top of the refrigerator directly behind Tony. The cat's long black tail whipped back and forth as the animals mushed face grew wide and ogling, leering at the old pizza box.

"_DEMON CAT!_" Tony hissed.

"Tony!" Pepper snapped, "You're yelling in my ear again!"

"I'm serious, it's a demon cat," Tony widened his gaze pointing pleadingly at the cat, as if Pepper were there to see, "I walked in the kitchen and he's just sitting up on the fridge, stooping, with his eyes all glow-in-the-dark-'n'-shit."

Pepper sighed.

"Tony," she said quietly, seriously, "I have fifteen critical decision meetings scheduled today—these two hours, these two sweet hours before work where I can just…_sleep_, it's all I have in the world!"

"Well, that's not entirely true," Tony said with a tilt of his head, "Didn't you buy an Audi?"

"Tony, is there anything urgent—"

"Urgent?!" Tony yelped as the cat made one swooping leap dive from the fridge to the counter, right onto the pizza box. He felt the fluff just barely skim his nose, taunting him into a violent sneeze.

"_Achoo! _Urgent! Pepper! I've got a fucking poltergeist here—that cat was _stooping _in the dark."

"Tony-"

"Pepper! _Stooping_! He was _stooping_. You've got to get him out of here."

"You bought him."

Tony perked up, straightening his back a little. He stepped back a tad as the cat began to rip at the cardboard pizza box.

"That…" he stalled, "isn't…strictly…true. He was bought out of a bout of misinformation."

He swore he could hear her roll her eyes.

"As you have made sure to repeat to me every morning since," said Pepper.

"Well, there you go. Want me to stop?" said Tony, "You know I'll never give you any peace of mind. But I've solved it for you already! Problem solved. Bing, bang, just like that. Move in with me."

"I can't talk about this right now."

"Well, your call, just saying though, I can get _really _obnoxious when I want to, and I seriously doubt the probabilities of me coming to a sudden inspiration that'll change the fundamental obnoxiousness that is me," he spoke to empty air. Pepper did not reply. He went on ahead talking anyways.

"I don't really plan on stopping any time soon so long as Mr. Suck-Your-Soul over here keeps giving me the evil eye," the cat meowed, trotting up to him and sniffing the glowing orb on his chest in search for more anchovies. Tony smirked to himself and scratched at the cat's head, much like one would do to a dog.

"Yeah! I'm talking about you, Mr. Meow."


	3. Soap

**Soap**

He was out on a test-run, flying over billows of frothy blue as they crashed into the rocky seashore with a clap. His suit was freshly waxed and as he passed over a long line of glistening sports cars—his sports cars, mind you—he dipped down low and let their sparkle in the sun rebound onto him. He pulsed like a twinkling star as he zoomed by.

He let out a low whoop of excitement as he spun around and darted up toward the sky, spreading out his arms and reliving that last free fall after the Chitauri were defeated. He closed his eyes and began to hum in gentle breaths in deep relaxation, letting the free fall rock him into deep oblivion.

"You have Miss Pepper Potts on the phone for you, Tony," Jarvis spoke into his ear.

Tony popped his eyes open.

"Damn it, Jarvis! I'm trying to sleep here!"

"I can send her to your voicemail, if you would prefer, sir," said Jarvis.

Tony grumbled to himself and then said, "No, no, I'll take it."

He turned himself up, so that his feet faced downwards as he plummeted now twenty yards, now ten from the glassy sea. Deep gusts shot out the palms and heels of his suit, and he flew back up, gliding into the blue sky.

"Tony," said Pepper.

"Sup?"

"I feel awful…"

There was a broody crackling that rumbled in his ears. He narrowed his eyes.

"Babe, what's that noise?" he said.

The crackling grew louder as soft ruffling quickened. Then it broke out into a sudden _meow _of pleasure.

Tony cringed, "Is that—"

A volley of wet strained coughs choked into the air. Pepper sniffled.

"Mr. Meow is keeping me company. I'm sick."

"I knew it!" Tony bunched up his lips as he flew over to the upmost balcony of his estate, "Jarvis, the Pepper-bot is broken! It's time to get a new one!"

Pepper paid no mind, "Can you go get me something?"

"Like what?" he said while landing on his balcony. The doors inside were all open, and he could see the reflection—the curves of her bare shoulder—in a distant mirror.

"Something for my cough?" she groaned in a puppy-dog voice.

"What, we don't have anything? Jarvis!" he snapped to his computer, "Don't we have anything?"

Jarvis responded into the phone line, "For which particular symptom, Mr. Stark?"

Tony shrugged, "A cold, a cough, a flu."

"Loading files…checking files…unfortunately, no, sir."

Pepper gave out another groan, "_Pleeease_."

He gave her reflection one last glimpse before sighing and rocketing back into the sky, "Yeah, well, I was headed toward Walmart anyway."

"_Thank you!_" Pepper cheered and then coughed pitifully, "Oh, and while you're at it, I noticed you didn't have any dish towels."

Tony feigned shock, "I have dish towels! Jarvis, don't I have dish towels?"

"No, sir."

"Damn it, Jarvis! Haven't I programmed you to lie yet!"

"No, sir."

"_Damn it, Jarvis!_"

"Oh," Pepper perked up a little, "and some Ajax, too."

Tony arched a brow and pinched his lips together suspiciously, "…Ajax?"

"Yeah and some…" Pepper stammered, "Well, I'll make a list actually. Jarvis! Jarvis, I'll write it down and you can send it to him."

"Of course, madam."

"No, _madam_, he can't, he can't do that! He's not programmed to do that!" He could hear the shuffling of covers and the pitter-patter of the cat's feet, "What're you—are you getting out of bed? Don't get out of bed! You're sick! Sick people don't get out of bed!"

But it was too late. Her hand scribbled in a glorious frenzy. Before he knew it, he heard Jarvis's voice.

"Here you are, sir, your grocery list."

He saw it all listed before him, in between the various energy calibrations and aiming mechanisms programmed into the visor of his suit. His feet landed with a clank. _Walmart._

"Tony…" Pepper mumbled as she groped through the bags and bags of groceries he laid victoriously on the king-sized bed, "where's the Ajax?"

His hands were on his hips. They still felt the weight of the suit on them, even though he had taken it off.

"Hmm?" he hummed with a sideways smirk.

"The Ajax? The—" she froze in her roaming, sniffled, and pulled out a little box, "what is this?"

Tony coughed, and his hands quickly retreated from his hips, folding closely to his body.

"What?" he peeped.

She held the box up in disbelief. _Trojan_, it read.

"Well, now," she arched a brow, "a bit self-confident, are we?"

He wrinkled his lips up to the side and threw a hand in the air and tickled at his chin nervously.

"You know, you said something that was Greek sounding and I looked on the list and it wasn't on the list and I couldn't remember. But I knew it had something to do with the Greeks and the Trojans and Brad Pitt fighting Eric Bana in some epic battle—"

"Tony—"

"And then Eric Bana dies! And everyone's all like _no, not Eric Bana! _Because he was popular then—"

"Tony."

"And then there's Ajax! He was fighting for the Greeks. In the book. Yeah—I read that book. I _so _didn't Sparknotes it. Scouts honor." He held up two fingers. Pepper stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes, reaching out and pulling Tony's fingers down.

"Tony, you're rambling again," she said, playfully batting at his shoulder, "And you were never a boy scout!"

"I was a cub scout," Tony retorted, taking the little box from Pepper and eyeing it before looking back at Pepper, "What _is _Ajax anyways?"

"Dish soap. For dishes," then Pepper sneezed. Once. Twice. Thrice. She threw her hands up and dove her head into a pillow.

"_Ugh!_" she growled into the pillow, "I'm too tired to argue. I'm going to sleep."

Tony reached into a bag and handed her the coughing medicine, which she hugged into her chest with a sleepy smile. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, just at her hairline so he could feel her hair run like silk across his lips.

"Nightie night," he whispered, picking up all the grocery bags on his arms and wobbling out of the room, making sure to turn of the light behind him.

"Night."

The next morning, Tony was happy to discover that the poltergeist cat was not in fact responsible for waking him up at some god-awful hour in the morning. No, that honor went the pillow that was thrown into his face.

"_TONY!_" It was the beautiful sound of a woman's voice—shout. Screech.

"Mmm?" His eyelids were as heavy as lead. He could hardly open them until he heard the light switch snap on and the footsteps come pacing in.

"What the hell is this?" Pepper stormed up to him with a newspaper in hand.

There was a picture of the Iron Man, fully suited, except for his face, Tony Stark's devilishly smiling face, as he held that little box of _Trojan _next to his head.

The headline read:

_Iron Man Gets Some…_

…_things from the store._

Tony started burst into laughter but immediately threw a hand over his mouth. Pepper chucked the paper at him and stormed out of the room as swiftly as she had entered it.

"That is not what it looks like!" Tony jumped out of bed, "It was purely paparazzi!"

He saw her walk over to the counter, take something from the counter, and pace right over to the window. His eyes narrowed. He realized what it was. That little box.

"Wh-what're you doing?" he stammered.

She threw it out and slammed the window shut, chafing her hands together afterwards with a job well-done.

"Go back and got some Ajax, will ya?" She walked over to him and patted his cheek with a wink before leaving the room.

"Well," Tony sighed, "now you've made me sad…"


End file.
